


For You

by glymr



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Sensory Deprivation, M/M, Pornday the Ninth, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 07:49:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17039723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr
Summary: “Ready?”  Hank picked up the small remote and looked down at where Connor lay sprawled on the bed.  Connor took a second to consider, then nodded.Hank pressed the button, and the world went away.





	For You

"You're sure about this?" 

Connor smiled and nodded. He couldn't blame Hank for being nervous, considering. "Yes, I'm sure." Hank nodded in turn and carefully fastened the collar around Connor's throat. 

It looked like a strip of thick fabric, an inch-wide black band. Connor could preconstruct what it must look like, a stripe of black against his own pale synthskin. He watched as Hank sat back and slid on his the gloves. They fit well, tailored for his big hands, though they weren't exactly stylish. Their fuzzy surface made them look more utilitarian than sexy. If you didn't know what they did, that is. 

"Ready?" Hank picked up the small remote and looked down at where Connor lay sprawled on the bed. Connor took a second to consider, then nodded. 

Hank pressed the button, and the world went away. 

The idea had intrigued Connor the first time he'd heard about it. A sensory deprivation collar for androids, one that would block all sensory input from reaching his brain. No optical, no audio, no touch. None of an android's extended senses either, no connection to the web and, in his case, no ability to preconstruct. 

Connor floated, bodiless, in a void. 

A few seconds passed, though his sense of time was skewed without the ability to check against external confirmation. Then it came, two small taps in the center of his chest. 

Hank's touch blossomed out, creating ripples like stones tossed into a pond. One moment, Connor was _not_ , the next, he had a chest, a sternum, lit up with sensation for two uneven moments. His mind, already hungry for stimulation even after so short a time, latched onto the sensation. It seemed magnified, the two touches shaking through him like a bass beat on a speaker turned up too high. 

It took Connor another moment to remember that they were also a signal. He mentally engaged the speaker in his throat and sent the message, _Good_. He couldn't hear or feel the words. He had no way of verifying that it had successfully been conveyed. Except... 

There. One more tap of acknowledgement. 

The first time they'd tried this, Connor had been terrified. Without fingers, he couldn't tap out a message. Without a throat, he couldn't make a sound. He'd had no way at all to tell Hank to bring him back from the void. He couldn't even send a text message like this, cut off from everything. 

Hank had noticed his LED flaring red, of course, but back then they hadn't had the remote control yet. He'd had to turn off the collar manually, and it had taken several long seconds for him to get past Connor's randomly twitching and flailing limbs and reach the switch. 

Connor had rushed back to himself with Hank straddling him, the light and sound and sensation hitting him in one huge, simultaneous blast. 

He'd clung to Hank and cried afterward. Yes, it was no wonder that Hank always approached this with caution, even though they'd done it many times since. Even though they'd worked out how to do it safely. 

Disengaging the speaker, Connor let himself float. It wasn't dark, precisely. Darkness implied an absence of light. This was an absence of _everything._

It wasn't anticipation he felt, exactly. He wasn't 'holding his breath' as a human might say. He was just...waiting. 

The next touch gave him a left arm, sliding down the inside of his elbow and to his wrist. The light stimulation of his sensors echoed, every bit of his sensing software focused on it to the point where it seemed to reverberate. Connor would have liked to shiver, to react, but there was nothing to react _with_. Just the inside of an arm, briefly, until the echoes faded. 

The next touch was over his foot. 

There were a lot of sensors in his feet. Not as many as in his hands or tongue, but androids had to be able to recognize changes in the ground beneath their feet just as humans did. There was a tap to each of his toes, then a stroke down them. Then, gloriously, both gloves gripped and massaged his foot for a moment, shocking waves of sensation flowing over him as his hungry software zeroed in onto the input, running over and over it, giving it weight because it was the _only_ thing he could sense. 

As the touch was fading, the other foot came into existence. Connor wiggled his toes, now that he could feel them, and felt a caress brush across them. He could just barely sense Hank's human heat through the gloves. 

The sensation died away, leaving him bodiless again. 

A hard flick against one nipple. His nipples were no more sensitive than his arms or legs, though he could choose to make them react and peak in response to stimulation. He decided he would in the brief window of control he'd been offered, and was rewarded when gloved fingers pinched and rolled it. A wealth of new data surged into him, pressure and heat and simply the fact of touch touch touch… 

The hands kept touching him, stroking down his chest, then lifted away again. He never got used to the feeling of them returning no matter how many times it happened. 

Out of nowhere, one hand cradled his cock. There were a few extra sensors here, designed to measure a partner's sexual response. As with his nipples, he could choose to make his cock erect or leave it soft. Today he decided to harden it, to keep the hands on it for a little longer. 

They gripped and stroked, sending waves of sensation through him. It was all he was, a cock, disembodied. 

The fingers moved on, finding other places to touch. They squeezed his ass. They stroked his cheek. They lingered in the small of his back. 

Parts of him lighting up in his mind, briefly made real. 

The disembodied hands cupped his face and stroked over his lips. For a moment, he had lips. For a moment, he could feel the press of Hank's mouth to his own. 

The touches were happening more quickly now, Connor thought. Hardly would the echoes of one fade before another would jump out, sparking under his skin. Hank brushed over his palms. Hank intertwined their fingers. 

Hands. He had hands. He squeezed Hank's gently. 

The gloves disengaged, but did not leave him, trailing up his arms and shoulders and over his earlobes. Two fingers tapped against his lips and he let them part. 

Now he felt anticipation, bright with it. He waited. 

The reverberations died away, leaving him as nothing again, disconnected entirely from the world. He waited and waited, hungry and yet patient. 

For all that he'd been awaiting it, though, the touch against his tongue still hit him with a shock. 

It rolled through him as the gloves awoke every sensor in his tongue, pouring data through the sensitive organ. Connor couldn't moan, couldn't shout, couldn't jerk. He was a tongue, just a tongue, and that was enough. More than enough. 

The data kept coming, the touch pressing and changing, light and then firm, a tap, a pinch, a finger stroking him. It built and built and built until he overloaded. The soft reboot cleared his cache. 

His mind went blank. 

*** 

His sensors came online again slowly, which was good, because the sensitivity was turned up to maximum for every one of them. The dark room seemed bright as day to his optics, and even shifting on the bed caused warnings to pop up that the volume in the area was exceeding safe levels. He recalibrated everything, then looked over at Hank. 

The man was lying on his side, gazing raptly at Connor's face. He'd peeled off the gloves already, Connor could see them sitting on the bedside table. He had one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking lightly. 

Connor's lips turned up in an involuntary smile. There was always a sense of clarity and freedom after this, his background processes wiped away. Reaching out, he let his fingers trail over Hank's hard cock. His sensors must still not be calibrated perfectly, since the simple action sent reams of date pouring into him. He let it come, storing it without focusing on it. 

"Good?" asked Hank, just a little breathless. 

"Very good," said Connor. He wrapped his hand more firmly around Hank's cock and gave it a squeeze. "It seems you enjoyed it as well." 

"Yeah," gasped Hank. "You're so hot like that, Connor." 

A spark of curiosity flared. "What am I like, when I'm...under? I don't just lie there?" 

Hank shivered, his heartbeat accelerating slightly. "Normally, when we're, um, together like this, you look human. Even when you remove your skin, the way you hold yourself, the way you sound, they're all what a human would be like. Your skin flushes the way a human's would, your breathing, your reactions, they're all as close to a human's as they can be. But when you've got the collar on and I touch you..." he paused, swallowing. "It feels like you really _let go_ ," he said at last. "You make sounds, but they aren't sounds a human would make. They're these electronic beeps and whines, and when when something does come out of your throat, it has an edge of static to it. Sometimes your skin will disappear, but always in patches, in unexpected places. As though you're not controlling it at all, you're just riding the wave. Just going with it." His cock twitched. "It's really sexy," he admitted. 

"Oh," said Connor in wonder. He hadn't realized that his body was so responsive, even when he wasn't aware of it. It was slightly disconcerting, but at the same time, knowing Hank got so turned on by it gave him a different kind of rush. It felt a little like pride and a little like embarrassment. Connor ducked his head and gave Hank's erection another squeeze. 

Hank reacted with a small thrust of his hips and a grunt. Connor smiled and shifted, kissing his way down the other man's body until he could wrap his mouth around him. 

It was much less intense like this, with all his sensors feeding him information instead of just the ones on his tongue. Connor still loved it, loved hearing the sounds Hank made, seeing the way his body moved, feeling his increasingly insistent thrusts. Hank was close, worked up from watching Connor. It was a pleasing thought and a strange one, that Hank would find Connor's inhumanity exciting. 

Hank's hips jerked again. Connor pushed down and down until he'd managed to stuff Hank's entire cock down his throat. He doubted a human could take Hank so deeply, and certainly not without the need to stop and breathe. Hank groaned and shoved one hand into Connor's hair. "Fuck, fuck, Connor, I'm close, I'm so, I'm gonna," so Connor pulled back just enough that he could feel the warm splash coating his mouth, giving him even more to analyze. 

When he pulled back at last, he settled next to Hank and laid a hand on the other man's sternum. Hank placed his larger hand over Connor's, blanketing both sides in sensation. The scratch of his chest hair, the warm, rough skin of his hand. Connor closed his eyes, blocking his visual sensors. "I wonder if you could get something to cover your penis made of the same material as the gloves," he said idly. 

Hank's heart gave a little jump under his hand, but the man stirred slightly and said, "Nah. I don't want to get that distracted when you're cut off." 

Connor opened his eyes and examined Hank's face in the dim room. "Because you're worried that I might start to feel trapped again?" 

"No, now that we have the remote and the timer, I know you'll be okay even if I get distracted or something happens to me. But when we do it, I want to focus on you so I don't miss a second of your reactions. This is...I love doing it. I love doing it _for you_." 

"Oh." Connor wasn't sure what expression he was making. It was a smile, but his lips were trembling as well. As an android, the idea of someone doing something just for his benefit was still alien. He blinked hard to distribute the saline solution that suddenly gathered in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. 

"You're welcome," said Hank sleepily, "anytime." He squeezed the hand on his chest for a few seconds, then gradually relaxed his grip as he slid into sleep. Connor lay quietly and watched, letting the data flow. 


End file.
